


Show Me Your love (Before The World Catches Up)

by BuckysWinters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, POV Second Person, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rated T for language, Reader is Sassy, Sharing a Bed, Tony Stark x reader friendship, she does not pity Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckysWinters/pseuds/BuckysWinters
Summary: After the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky fully remembers himself and joins the Avengers instead of disappearing. You are also part of the team and after a mission has gone awry, Ultron still in the wind, the team is forced to lay low at Clint's house. There, you discover a different Bucky, he is more open, less intimidating and you don't know who decided to let their guards down first.AU set during Avengers: Age of Ultron and if you hadn't guessed already, Bucky and you have to share a bed (among other things) during that scene of the movie.





	1. Chapter 1

The English Dictionary had not enough words to keep up with the litany of curses you muttered at the second. You had stopped screaming a while ago, the team had silently thanked whatever God they prayed to for that but it did not altered the angry mumbling you still inflicted onto their poor ears.

Getting shot was part of the job, it happened before, one to your shoulder that left a nasty scar and months and months of physiotherapy. Your physiotherapist gave up on trying to tame your foul mouth. So did your friends, your team, your family.

Early on, Steve’s scowl made you raise a brow, what did he mean by “language”? He had fought in the war, you were sure he had heard, not to mention even partook in, much more creative insults. Who did he try to fool? Absolutely no one, especially not you. Mister Captain America, Sir Star Spangled Man, was no angel, to say the least. He could shove his remarks between his perfect round buttocks.

In all seriousness, you liked Steve, he was a good friend. With time, he had learned to adjust to your dry sense of humor and bad words, is all. The slight curve of his lips each time gave away the actual fondness he had developed for your creative potty mouth. 

On a scale from Steve Rogers to Tony Stark, the amount of curses you threw at no one in particular and to the entire damned world, was probably a solid Iron Man crouched beside you in the jet, scanning your vitals for any sign of internal damage.You two had shouted some pretty nasty words at each other. That’s how you came to show your affection toward the other, you noticed.

_“What the ever loving fuck were you thinking, (y/n)?”_

_“Shut your cakehole, Tony. I had what I had to do.”_

Was your last interaction before you took off.

You yelled in pain and frustration the moment he laid you down in the jet, squeezing his cladded metallic hand so hard you were sure he felt it through his suit. It probably looked like going into labour to an outsider; you laying on the floor, screaming. Tony leaning above you, panicked, while you gripped his hand and Steve applying pressure on your abdomen to prevent from bleeding out. You decided you were going to name the imaginary baby Satan for giving you so much pain that you had started to feel dizzy about it.

Later on, once you had completely calmed down and fell quiet except for the labored breaths and the few grunts you gave when they turned you to your side, Tony had applied what you believed was some sort of cryo gel. A freezing cold gel cauterizing the entry and exit wound. A clean shot through and through. It was a pain in your ass, a major one, but at least no damages were done to your organs and no need to fetch a lost bullet in your insides.

A small mercy.

You felt better already, the journey to a safe location was going to be long and tedious but you refused a sedative, they at least gave you painkillers and made you lay on the back seats. You felt bad for making them either stand up or sit on the floor but Natasha shot you a hard look of “don’t even think of apologizing” and Steve only smiled kindly at you, shrugging and waving the matter off. Bruce looked miserable and sweaty, truly shaken after the events encountered in the warehouse. The enhanced twins had not been kind to them, Tony and Bruce had been fighting God knew where after Bruce got tricked, leaving you and Clint to deal about the men Klaw sent your way. 

The team had been so focused on the hallucinations they were seeing that the two of you had been outnumbered quickly, resulting in getting shot when you didn’t think twice and threw yourself in front of an oblivious and absent-minded Bucky. You didn’t know how you had succeeded in getting them all out in one piece while taking down Klaw’s men, the fight had been rough in the first place but the holes freshly pieced in your belly had made the matter a hundred times worse.

 _You can’t fail_ , you had repeated yourself, _you must protect your team, they would do the same for you. You have to, you have to, you. have. to. You can’t let them down, c’mon, do it for them. On your feet_! And that did it, you had fought harder and righteously, not only for your life but for your friends'. 

You shut your eyes closed and took deep, controlled breaths, pushing the bittersweet thought aside. The bullet was worth it, it was only flesh wounds after all.

_Still hurt like a motherfu--_

“Hey.”

You opened your eyes at the quiet word, so quiet you were sure you had drifted off and imagined it but a very real Bucky sat on the floor, facing you. A haunted look in his eyes made your heart pang, no doubt caused by whatever he saw in his lucid dream. Or nightmare. Everybody pretty looked the same, hollow shells of themselves, wandering around the small space deep in thoughts. That made you wonder what they saw, what they were feeling, but you did not ask, that was nor the time or place.

You shifted uncomfortably to have a better look at Bucky but he stopped you, a gentle metal hand clasping your shoulder to still you. You gritted your teeth in pain, even if you were laying on your good side, it stung at every slight movement you made.

“Don’t move,” he smiled softly at you, but something was off, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, hell no. Don’t you dare.” you said, sighing as you realized there was guilt in his features.

He frowned, confused at your words and you continued, “Don’t give me the guilty look, just… don’t.” he opened his mouth but you cut him off immediately, “And if you try to apologize, I will make you eat Steve’s shield.”

That made him huff in amusement, and this time, he smiled a real smile at you. Almost a fond one and that made you feel better.

“You’re surely as stubborn as him, though the language is not as adequate--”

“Oh, fuck off, Barnes.”

“I’m glad you didn’t lose your tongue.” He glanced briefly at the bloody gauze covering your middle and he tensed again.

“Stop that.” You snapped not unkindly but firmly. The soldier in him reacted right away and his eyes found yours once again. “I’m okay, I will survive. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You chuckled weakly and started to cough. He moved to get up but you stopped him, loosely grabbing his wrist. He didn’t fight it and sat back cross-legged on the floor. “I’m fine.” You murmured, swallowing thickly, the thought of Bucky fetching water for you threatened the nausea you had kept at bay for a while.

“You should rest,” he told you in a low, raspy voice. “You look pale.”

“Just say I look like shit,” you said. “that will save you a lot of trouble.”

“You look like shit.” He responded in an amused voice.

“Why thank you. So do you.” you answered in a fake offended voice.

He was the one to chuckle this time and it made you look up. He truly looked like hell, you noted. The dark circles under his eyes completed the haunted look. His hair was a mess and some strands were coated against his sweaty face. He looked totally disheveled.

Both of you stayed silent for a long moment, the only noises around you were the low hum of the engine as you flew, the quiet whispers of exchanged conversations fading in the background. You also could hear Bruce’s music from here, he had it so loud it faintly escaped the confine of his headphones. You spared a glance in his direction, he was a complete wreck, you thought. He had taken the worst hit after what had happened. Not only he had his brain messed up with but he destroyed half the town in the battle. It saddened you, Bruce did not deserve this.

After this, your eyes fluttered close, restless sleep gradually overtook your body and mind.

Bucky remained close to you the entire time until you landed, watching over you as guilt was gnawing at him.

 

A soft shake of your shoulder woke you up and to your unfounded disappointment, found Steve staring right back at you.

“We’re here.” he told you.

You nodded and pushed yourself in a sitting position. Ow. Just fucking _ow._ You grimaced when you stood up, something warm and heavy slid off you but with some difficulty and with the rest of your still functioning -- although altered by sleep -- reflexes, you caught the thing in your hands. You eyed the jacket numbly as if it was going to give you answers the longer you looked at it.

Steve approached you and broke the silent one-way conversation you were having with the jacket. “What?”

“I said, do you need help walking?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I can do it on my own.”

Steve looked like he wanted to argue but knew better than to do so, he simply gave you a nod and joined Tony’s side.

You still held the jacket in your hand and decided to just go with it and placed it back around your shoulders. You caught the scent and the familiar smell hit you all at once. Your eyes searched for Bucky and when you found him, you stepped in his direction carefully, trying to not cause any more damages to your injuries by stretching them any further.

That’s what you intended to do anyway but the moment you tried to move, you nearly collapsed if it wasn’t for a strong pair of arms hauling you back up again.

“What did I say about moving? Jesus, you’re terrible.” Bucky said, pressing you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright.

You did not have the heart or energy to retort any clever and witty remark, you let him handle you like a ragdoll down the exit of the jet with incredible care. Every step you took made you agonize in pain, almost wishing for a quick death already. Bucky kept you close to him, your arm sliding to find leverage against his back. He quickly helped you up the stairs, why the fuck were there stairs in the first place? Everything looked blurry and unfamiliar, you cursed under your breath for the millionth time when you set foot in an unknown house, the smell of freshly baked goods covering the smell of Bucky’s jacket and--

“Honey, I’m home!”

Wait, what.

You blinked a couple of times, watching your surroundings more closely: drawings on the walls, pieces of legos on the floor and was that a dollhouse? A woman appeared in the living room, she had a huge belly, you noted. Pregnant, close to term.

“Hi. Company.” Clint said. “Sorry, didn’t call ahead.” The woman cupped his face with a relieved smile and kissed him. That made you even more confused, if only you could think properly right now.

“This is an agent of some kind.” Tony said to Thor’s equally confused face.

“Gentlemen, this is Laura.” Clint interrupted.

“I know all your names.” She chuckled, waving at the group of you. You would have waved back it wasn’t for your left arm secured around Bucky and your right hand pressing against you belly to stop the pain to spread. Only Tony waved a tiny awkward hello.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried and loud footsteps echoing and approaching quickly toward you. Two children threw themselves in Clint’s enthusiastic arms, kissing their little heads and calling them “sweetheart” and “buddy”.

Steve made a hilarious face, torn between confusion and utter disbelief.

“These are smaller agents.” Tony pointed at them, obviously trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Did you bring Auntie Nat?” The little girl said, all shy and hopeful.

“Why don’t you hug her and find out?” Natasha told her as the kid ran up to her and, indeed, hugged her tightly.

It must be a dream. All of this must be a dream. You fell asleep on the jet, the painkillers got to your head and you were _dreaming._ Since when Clint had a family? Since when Natasha was an _Auntie_? Since when--

“Sorry for barging in on you.” Steve announced, serious and professional, breaking the moment.

“Yeah, we would have called ahead but we were busy not knowing that you existed.” said Tony.

“Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined. He kept it off SHIELD’s files. I’d like to keep it that way. I figured it’s a good place to lay low.” Clint said to all of us.

Ah.

“I missed you,” Nat smiled at the woman, no, at _Laura_. “How’s little Natasha?” she asked, touching the prominent belly.

“She’s… Nathaniel.” Laura replied with an apologetic face.

Natasha bent down and spoke directly to the baby still nestled inside the warm belly of her mother, “Traitor.”

A laugh escaped you and Bucky looked down at you, startled by the sudden sound.

“What? Nat threatening an unborn baby is funny.” you shrugged.

Thor abruptly left the room, you heard him wield his hammer and fly away. You turned your head and looked through the window, outside you saw Steve walk away. Whatever they had seen in their respective hallucinations, you knew it had shaken them both. All of them, if you were being honest. So you didn’t try to ponder too long on their impromptu departures. They needed space.

Bucky tightened his hold around you and you let out a hiss, he mumbled an apology and all eyes drifted toward the pair of you.

“Shit, right. (y/n), are you alright?” Clint untangled himself from the arms of his wife and son and stepped to you with a worried look.

“She needs to lay down,” Bucky said, “She lost too much blood.”

“You can take one of the guest bedrooms upstairs,” Laura said then cringed a bit when she mentally counted how many you were. “Some of you will need to double up, though.”

Clint laughed, “Yeah, that’s not gonna sell.”

“We’re all adults, Clint, we can behave as such and share a bed.” you said, annoyed. You just wanted to lie down and curse the entire planet away from the children’s innocent ears.

“Sure, so what, Cap and Stark will share a bed? You and Cyborg here too?” He glanced back and forth between you and Bucky.

“I don’t mind,” you hummed unpleasantly when Bucky shifted against you, tensing and therefore unconsciously gripping your waist tighter, causing to apply uncomfortable pressure against your wounds. “If you’re okay with that?” You asked him.

Bucky nodded warily.

“Okay, then, let’s get you set up.” Clint said.

Once you had climbed the stairs, Bucky still glued to your side to help you, you nearly fainted when you finally stepped in the relatively average size bedroom. He sat you down on the bed and you let out a long sigh, relaxing every muscle in your body as best as you could. The journey had been long and you were truly exhausted. The soft mattress supporting you felt heaven like, a fluffy cloud, a marshmallow, every soft thing you knew, you named it.

The mattress sunk next to you and you watched as Bucky sat in his turn. He rolled his shoulders and you broke the silence, “Thanks for the jacket, by the way.”

“It’s nothing.”

He didn’t look at you and you didn’t try to make him. Instead, you studied his profile and stifled a yawn behind your hand. He did the same and you found the gesture incredibly cute, you’d never seen him yawn before and you looked away, both of you chuckling.

“You need to sleep, Bucky.” you said tiredly, still not looking at him.

“I’m not the one who got shot.” And after a pause, “I will sleep on the floor.”

“What?” you blurted out, “No, you’re not.”

“I slept on worse, trust me.”

“And I believe you but this is ridiculous. The bed is big enough for two and I’m not leaving you sleep on the goddamned floor.”

“Okay--”

“We are grown adults, we can share a bed--”

“(y/n)--”

“don't (y/n) me! If you sleep on the floor I will kick your ass myself, I swear to Christ I will do it--”

“(y/n)!”

“What?!”

“Okay. I said, okay.”

“...Oh.” You stopped your babbling and dumbly sat there, not knowing what to do. “Good. And you say _I’m_ terrible. Look at yourself, Barnes.”

“Shut up and lay down.” he said with a smile and felt your cheeks flush. “Do you need anything?” He looked around in the small space for anything useful. “Water? Something to eat?” He opened the door of the joined bathroom and scanned the room there too.

“No, I’m fi--”

“I’m getting you water.” He ignored you and entered the bathroom, you heard the faucet open and the water run. Bucky came back a second later with a glass of fresh water and you were lying if you said you weren’t so thirsty your mouth tasted like ash.

“If you don’t drink this time, I will kick your ass myself.”

“Are you serious? You can’t use my own words against me. That’s just playing dirty there.”

Bucky handed you the glass with a smug smile and you gingerly took it, sipping carefully the first few sips of your drink then gulped down the rest. You thanked him and you laid down laboriously atop the covers of the bed, groaning as you did and still clutching Bucky’s jacket close to your nearly shivering body.

“Stay here,” he said as if you had a choice and he set the empty glass on the nightstand near you. “I’ll be back in a sec’.”

“Mm-hm.” Your eyes closed on their own accord and when Bucky came back not even a couple of minutes later, you were already fast asleep.

* * *

When you woke up hours later with a splitting headache and every nerves of your body on fire, you found the bed empty. You limbs were stiff from sleeping in the exact same position for too long. You groaned and buried your face in the pillow. The only trace indicating Bucky had slept in the same bed as you was the the stray strand of dark hair you found on the pillow next to yours. _Well at least he had listened to me._

It took half an hour to actually get up and drag yourself to the bathroom. You splashed some water on your face, you discarded yourself from Bucky’s jacket slowly and raised your shirt to assess the battlefield that was your lower abdomen in front of the mirror. The cryo gel had dissipated some time during the night and left both wounds puckered and angry dark bruises rounded the battered skin. It had also bled some more, totally soaking the bandages. You needed stitches which meant more pain and more scars. You sighed and rolled back down your shirt and began your journey downstairs.

It wasn’t a small affair to do it on your own, you almost wished for Bucky to be here to help you again but you reminded yourself he wasn’t at your service and you were perfectly capable without him. You shook your head at yourself, Bucky was simply trying to be nice and helpful. You were just a bitch and you knew it. It wasn’t a case of a dude saving the damsel in distress, for all you knew, it was actually _you_ who saved his ass. So some help was welcome, you made yourself admit, asking wasn’t going to hurt your cold-hearted self.

“Well lookie here, sleeping beauty finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Tony said brightly from the table, “not dead, then.”

“You wish, Stark.” You replied as you made your way to the table and sat down on a vacant chair next to him.

He stood up and squeezed your shoulder fondly.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked on the opposite side of the table. He was clad in a simple blue shirt and your eyes drifted to Bucky who was sitting beside him, wearing a black hoodie, left hand shoved in a pocket. His face was no longer sweaty and you noticed he had showered. God, you needed a shower too.

“I need stitches,” you sighed.

“We’ll make you some,” Bruce said as he placed a plate of food in front of you. You could kiss the man right now, it smelled delicious and your stomach growled loudly, hunger making you almost forget the feeling of pain. “But first, you need to eat.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice, Doctor.” And so you ate. 

You ate fast, too fast, but everybody seemed relieved that you did so. They paid no attention to your almost ill-mannered way of shoving the food in your face and instead, they talked about Clint, Laura and the kids. That’s how you came to know about how they met, when they married, how close Nat and the kids were and the little girl, Lila, sat on Natasha’s lap, tucked happily against her aunt. It was cute, you’ve never seen this side of Clint before and you honestly liked his family.

After the plates were cleared and cleaned, which Laura had refused you helped in any way, making Clint participate in your place (you had laughed silently at how Clint had obeyed without batting an eyelash, you liked this woman, you could get along with her, you thought) and so you had only stayed there, letting you feel the abnormal yet very relaxed atmosphere of being a guest at The Bartons’ family house.

“You coming?” Tony said, breaking you out of your reveries.

You nodded and slapped away his outstretched hand to help you get on your feet. Tony giggled and led you to another room to perform the very needed stitches.

“My grandma walked faster than you.”

“I’m going to shoot you, Tony.”

“No, you won’t. Otherwise, who will pay for all your toys?” he said and pointed to the couch at the far corner of the room.

You sat on the designated couch. “I will take pleasure in shooting you, don’t underestimate me.”

“Sure thing. Now take off your shirt.”

“Oh, god. Are you always so straightforward with women?”

“They like it.” he replied and joined you, “Come, now. Be a good girl.”

“I’m going to shoot you. Twice.”

He grinned and you couldn’t help but grin back as Tony kneeled in front of you. You raised your shirt and tucked it underneath your bra so you wouldn’t need to hold it. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Tony touched you with care and softness but you were, and the moment broke when the needle pierced your skin. You cursed and Tony looked up to you.

“We can give you something to sedate you while I--”

You breathed deeply and shook your head. “Just get it over with. Please.”

Tony got back to the matter at hand and finished as quickly as humanly possibly to stitch the first wound on your right side. He made you turn to the other side and cleaned the second wound, the exit one, and started stitching again.Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes and you bit your cheek hard enough to draw blood. It _hurt._  
  
The mission was supposed to be simple, retrieve and destroy Ultron, but the fucker had the intelligence of an alien artifact and of Tony & Bruce’s ressources, of course it wasn’t going to be so easy. Not to mention the fast and creepy siblings that had somehow sided with him. They gave a hard fight and when you thought it was over, the weird witch had fucked with their brains and it had enraged you to no end.

Now you all needed to lay low and you had to recover from a gunshot wound. Just wonderful.

“It’s done.” Tony said as he stood up, the slapping sound of his plastic gloves being removed made you finally breathe out.

“Thank God,” You rolled down your shirt for the second time that day and you felt so much better you could either cry or hug Tony.

“I didn’t expect so much gratitude.”

You rolled your eyes but said seriously, “Thank you, Tony. I could practically hug you right now.”

“Please don’t, you’re gonna put blood on my clothes and you need a shower first.” He wrinkled his nose in fake mockery, but it was true, you do needed a shower.

You were about to say something when you noticed what he was wearing, “Wait, is this plaid? Oh, my God, are you wearing dad clothes?” You smirked and his face fell.  
  
“Those are Clint’s clothes, so yeah, they are dad clothes. You tell him.”

“How does it feel to wear something cheap?” You snickered, taking too much pleasure in annoying him back.

“I feel so much regret, I’m taking those stitches back.”

“Don’t you fucking dare or I’ll call Steve.”

“Yeah? Well I will call Barnes, then.”

You glared at him, wondering why exactly he had said that but you had not the time to answer anything when the door of the room opened and Laura’s head peeked inside.

“I left you some of my clothes in the guest bedroom so you can have a nice shower, (y/n).”

“Thanks. Yes, please.” You nodded gratefully at her.

She smiled in return and closed the door behind her.

“I’m going before you say I stink again.” You made a beeline for the door and at the last moment, you turned to Tony. “Really, thank you for the stitches.”

“Urgh, don’t go all soft on me, (y/l/n). Get out of here.” He said with a smile.

You did as you were told and went to your bedroom. Well, _temporary_ bedroom.

 

Hot water hit your face in a gentle cascade and you moaned at how good it felt, you let yourself stay under the spray for a little more, enjoying how your body relaxed and how a lot more human you were feeling after finally being clean, removing the sweat and blood from your body. The hot water quickly ran out, figuring everybody before you tried their best at leaving hot water just enough for everyone. You rinced yourself with lukewarm water, it didn’t bother you, you only made a mental note to wake up earlier tomorrow to enjoy it a little more than today. You carefully wrapped yourself in a towel, made a quick affair of drying yourself off but when you reached for the clothes Laura lend you, that’s when you realized you had left them on the bed.

Opening the door of the bathroom, you almost collided with someone’s chest as you got out. You yelped involuntarily but cool fingers caught your wrist to still you.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in there. I should have knocked.” Bucky said and turned to face away from you when he saw in what state of undress you were in.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” You secured the towel firmly around yourself, feeling suddenly very self-aware of the only barrier covering your naked body.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hands on his face and you could tell he was blushing.

Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier, deadly cold-blooded assassin was blushing and it was the most endearing thing you encountered in your life.

“It’s fine,” you laughed. “I’m sure it’s not the first time you saw a woman’s ankles.”

As a response, you received a groan and that made you laugh even harder.

“Wait, please don’t tell me it was forbidden to see a woman’s ankle in the forties or something, because if that means you have to marry that person afterward I’m--”

“No!” He turned to you, trying to salvage a bit of the situation but he obviously forgot for a second you were still standing there, partially naked, and he gasped, turning away again furiously. “Can you get dressed? I’m just-- I’m gonna wait outside, ‘kay?”

Bucky didn’t wait for an answer and stormed out the room, leaving you alone with the rest of dignity you possessed.

After dressing up quickly and applying large bandaids you found in the bathroom’s cabinet to cover both of your wounds, you went downstairs to find Bucky. The living room and kitchen were empty and to your surprise, you found yourself out of breath already. You knew you couldn’t keep up like you used to, it was no joke that injury, and you needed to take it slow even if your were impatient by nature. The stitches pulled uncomfortably under your shirt and you kept a hand pressed firmly there to try to attenuate the pain.

You couldn’t find Bucky. He had vanished and you didn’t know where he had gone. That bugged you. You didn’t mean to embarrass him, you wanted to lighten the mood by making a joke but after all, you didn’t know the man that well to really know his sense of humor. Everybody knew yours, that much was obvious, but Bucky… He was always so quiet and brooding in his own corner but you didn’t want to give up.

Going back to the living room, you went to make a detour in the kitchen to swallow a couple of painkillers Bruce and Clint had left you in one of the cupboards. Your body was in a much better shape, you healed rather fast if you kept your body stimulated and not laying horizontally all day, you had learned to ignore the pain long ago and being in a team of superheroes didn’t allow self-pity or rest.

Thinking about it as you wandered in The Barton’s household, you wondered: what else _could_ you do other than to rest anyway? Steve and Tony had updated you on the team’s current status: undetermined stay. Great, now you had all the time in the world to lament about your _condition._

Bored, you were bored. It was boring, you hated staying too long without anything to do, this was the first time in the past couple of years since you joined the Avengers that you had gotten so fucking _bored._

Sighing, you sunk down on the couch and stretched your legs in front of you. Where the hell was everyone? Where had Bucky gone?

“Do you want to draw with me?”

Discarding the arm you had laid above your eyes to hide from the blinding sun, you blinked a couple of times at the little girl who had appeared next to you, crayons in one hand and sheets of paper in the other. She gave you a timid smile, showing you her belongings.

“You know what? Yes, I’d love to.”

That’s how you found yourself sprawled on the floor hours later, covered in ink stains on your hands and wrists, sheets of paper proudly forming a halo around the both of you. Lila had taken your hand and dragged you to her (and her brother’s) playroom to draw, you had not expected to be so engrossed in your “art” and Lila was too happy to have a friend wanting to draw with her for endless hours. You figured how lonely it must be for her here, her mother had all the housework to do since Clint wasn’t present much, her brother was almost a teen and drawing butterflies wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore. So you indulged her and you had even genuinely liked spending time with her. She told you all about her mommy but what interested you the most was the tales about her daddy, and you listened with a small smirk, Clint didn’t know yet how you were going to use all these informations to your advantage.

You were not an artist, that was for granted, but you drew with freedom and playfulness, the desk you were seated at wasn’t big enough for the pile of drawings you both created and so you had moved down. It wasn’t the best of position for your wounds and you felt sore after a couple of hours but eyeing the sketches covering the floor, it was worth it.

“Guys? Guys!” Clint’s voice echoed in the house and you yelled back a “In here!” to him.

He opened the door after a pause and his brows raised so high you were afraid they were going to disappear somewhere behind his hairline.

“What’s going on here?”

“(y/n) and I are drawing, look, look!” Lila beamed, motioning to her dad to come take a look.

Clint laughed loudly when he recognized yours. He bent down and laughed harder, “I look nothing like this.” He said to you.

“Hey, I’m not Steve, I never said I could actually draw.”

You stood up and grabbed all of your drawings, seven in total. “What did you want, Clint? Your daughter and I were pretty busy here.” You stretched your back and let out a quiet “ow” when your stitches complained with the sudden move.

“Dinner time.” He kissed the top of Lila’s head, “Did you two have fun?”

“I sure did,” you replied to him sincerely and winked at her.

Dinner was ready and waiting for you, you took the only place left between Natasha and Steve. Bucky was here too, he had appeared at some point during the afternoon and you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him since this morning’s incident. His left hand was still hidden in the pocket of his hoodie and you wondered if it was intentionally done to not spook the kids. Which was ridiculous in your opinion, their dad was an avenger and a guy with a metal arm was cool to the youth, none of this job made sense but they would surely be used to it.

Natasha and you were deep in a conversation about what was the best way to eat peanut butter, she ate her sandwiches with nothing but peanut butter and you found it outrageous to not pair it with jam. Tony overheard and declared the best way was to eat it was directly from the jar with a spoon. You made a disgusted noise and said it really proved how his eating habits were the worst. Clint agreed with him while Bruce agreed with you, and Steve had explained how expensive it was to him and Bucky when they were young so he didn’t really had an opinion, Bucky nodded and surprised you when he let out a low chuckle, adding that whenever he could now, he ate it with jam. You gave everyone a smug toothy grin, pleased that your opinion was the most popular one, winning this round. When Steve got up to clear the table, you stole his chair and turned to Bucky, thanking him for the help.

“Not my fault if they have no taste in food,” he shrugged.

Your mind raced, you were hit with a dozen of questions; what did he like to eat? What was his favorite food? His favorite restaurant? Did he like pineapple on pizza? What was it like the food in the forties and during the war? Was he on a diet? Did he enjoy the food of the twenty-first century? Was he a sweet or savory person?

You came back to yourself, not realizing you had been staring at him. His eyes didn’t leave you and for a moment, his blue eyes gazed deeply into yours. You averted your eyes and for a second time now you flushed under his stare.

“(y/n)?”

Laura’s voice made you resurface, were the noises and voices around you that loud before? You looked up to her and she asked you if you wanted a slice of pie. You were stuffed but home cooked meals were so rare these days you couldn’t say no. You nodded and thanked her when she handed you a plate of apple pie and with a perfect scoop of ice cream on top.

“I’m gonna need to hit the gym real soon with that delicious food.” you said to her.

“I’m taking this as a compliment.”

“You should.” you exchanged smiles.

“You won’t go anywhere near the gym in your condition.”

Bucky’s voice was as quiet as a whisper, his words intended solely for your ears. You glanced at him and he surprised you again when you saw he forked a mouthful of his own apple pie and chewed on it.

“I’m not bedridden either, Bucky.”

“You should be, though. That’s not how you’re going to heal.”

You glared at him, no trace of hostility in your eyes and said in a fake threatening voice, “If you try to mother hen me again, I’m gonna steal your ice-cream.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored you, “It’s going to get infected and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“Can’t say you had it coming,” and you took your spoon, ready to steal as much as you could from his plate.

He was faster than you and grabbed his plate as you lunged yourself at him. He formed a barrier with his arms around the plate, not letting you anywhere near his food but you didn’t give up just yet. You spotted an unprotected space between his chest and the table and you took the opportunity to slide your spoon in the narrow space. You knew you couldn’t get anywhere close to the plate but you just wanted to defend your case and your honor.

“Hey! Give it back, you thief!” you shrieked when he had somehow succeeded at stealing your spoon from your grasp.

“Nope, you will have to take it from me.”

You were ready to tackle him to the floor, you swore you were, but the moment you were about to, your stitches pulled so tight it made you back off instantly. Bucky saw your face grimace in pain and he dropped the spoon, “Are you okay?”

“Overextended myself.” but you nodded nonetheless, he was right in saying you should be in bed but you weren’t going to admit it.

“See? Karma.” Tony intruded. “And I’m not stitching you back up again.”

Steve nudged him not too gently in his ribs with his elbow and that made you all kind of grateful.

“You need to rest.” Bucky told you and you didn't try to argue this time. He drew out his hand in your direction and you accepted it without a word, pulling you to your feet. You said your goodbyes with the rest of the team and retired to your bedroom for the night. He let you use him as leverage in the stairs and he was kind enough to not comment on your nails digging in his flesh arm through his hoodie as you grunted in pain. Your legs shook when you set foot in the bedroom and a relieved sigh escaped your lips when finally, you found the comfort of your borrowed bed.

“Do you need anything?” he spoke as he stood in the middle of the room, giving you your space.

“No, thank you.” your lips curled in a smile and he found himself mirroring you.

When he made a move to exit the room, you grabbed his wrist and asked in a whisper, “Can you save me the rest of my pie?”

He snorted. _Snorted._

“Can’t promise they didn't already eat it.”

“Vultures.” You mumbled tiredly.

“I’ll do my best.” He squeezed your hand with his free one and you hummed, curling onto yourself, welcoming sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

You didn’t know what to do, this was a situation you were not trained for and you were tempted to get up to find Steve. 

 

Bucky had woken you up a few minutes ago, tossing and turning violently in the bed you shared with him. You didn’t hear him crawl under the covers, deep in your slumber, you had not felt a thing. You knew he was silent and sneaky, this was no surprise to you, he had proved it many times.

 

You knew HYDRA had left nightmares for life lodged in his brain but you had never witnessed them up close. You had seen his bed head in the gym many times in the middle of the night, trying to kick away the remain of his nightmares, trying to relieve and release himself of the nightmares clogged under his skin. You two had exchanged a knowing look and had gone to your own corner of the room. Insomnia you knew well, this long time friend of yours made you share one too many companionable silences with Bucky.

 

After months of sharing the gym together and not saying a word at night to the other, you had approached him gingerly, making as much noises as possible to make your presence known. You tapped his arm and put your hands on your hips when he looked at you.

 

“Wanna spar?” 

 

He had reluctantly accepted and that’s how you had spent most nights, fighting and draining each other’s energy to a dull ache, making your limbs pleasantly sore. You still didn’t share many words, you never saw the point, you liked the quiet company and he, apparently, enjoyed it that way as well. You often sat on the floor after you finished your sparring sessions (he more often than not put you down first, he only moved to join you there) and you bumped your wrist to his to let him know you were okay, that was your code, your routine.

 

Bucky was strong and methodical, quick and assertive, you had to keep up with him and he obviously pulled his punches for you. You told him many times he didn’t have to but he shook his head every time, murmuring things about you getting hurt. You guessed he also didn’t fully trust his metal arm too. You, on the other hand, did not pull your punches. On the contrary, you had to use every ounce of your strength to be able to level with him. He did not give you free passes, he didn’t let you win, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. At the same time, he was patient enough to teach you things, was it the hard way when pinning you down against the floor, crying out in defeat, or was it when you asked what moves he had used, taking the time to show you.

 

You had created a bond between the two of you, the night had tied you to him but you still did not know a single thing about him except for the few tidbits Steve was willing to share here and now. But was it the same Bucky he was friends with decades ago? You weren’t sure, the memories too dear for Steve to hold onto.

 

Bucky made a sound between a sob and gasp, he was facing away from you so you had no idea if he was awake or still battling his demons. The soft whimpers that followed had echoed deeply in your mind and soul, you felt bad for him, you wanted desperately to help him but he couldn’t hear you, not in this state. You ignored the red flags rising in your brain about touching him and laid a hand tentatively between the blades of his shoulders. His reaction was instantaneous, you had expected him to assault you to defend himself, probably thinking you were the enemy but your touch had calmed him down. You could only hear his ragged breaths, his back tensing under the palm of your hand. He was awake. 

 

Your hand traveled from his clothed back to his bicep, clasping it gently. 

 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” he said in a thick, raspy voice.

 

You huffed, “It’s fine, I’m more worried about you right now.”

 

He didn’t say a word for a long time, keeping your hand firmly planted on his right arm all along. When you thought he had gone back to sleep, you slowly slipped your hand away. At the very last second, his metal hand caught yours and you gasped in surprise, not expecting the touch from him. Not asleep, then. He pulled back your hand in its initial spot and didn’t let go. You were torn at what to do next, he was silently asking you to keep touching him but you had not a single clue what he would allow or not. 

 

The idea you got was somehow risky but you were ready to face the consequences. Slowly, very slowly, you pulled his shoulder toward you, turning him softly to lay him on his back. He let you handle him, rendering himself pliable, almost docile. You didn’t stop touching him as you could finally see his face. It was pitch black in the room but the moon highlighting dimly his features allowed you to see the sweat on his face.

 

He flinched slightly when you slid you hand to his chest. “Sorry, sorry…” You whispered in the dead of the night, spreading your fingers at the center of his torso, feeling his heart hammering loudly against your palm. “Is this okay?”

 

He didn’t give you an answer, the only way he made you understand he was okay with this was when he placed his own hand above yours. The cold of his metal fingers was strange in contrast of how warm his chest felt, both feelings trapping your hand in a perfect balance.

 

“Go back to sleep, you’re okay. You’re safe.” You said to him, trying to sound convincing. It was odd to say those words to him, you usually never really talked, and when serious topics came up, you avoided discussing them. It was your mutual agreement, a silent pact. “I’ve got you, Bucky.”

 

He squeezed your hand so carefully you could have melted on the spot.

 

Bucky relaxed gradually, you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest telling you he had fallen asleep. The shallow, regular breaths made you relax in turn, lulling you back to sleep after you were absolutely sure Bucky wasn’t going to wake up. 

 

You woke up hours later, how long it had been exactly since Bucky’s nightmare, you didn’t know. Without opening your eyes you could tell he wasn’t in bed anymore but you didn’t let your disappointment show. Instead, you hurried to the bathroom, making sure you took your clothes with you this time, and you showered, enjoying the hot water from beginning to end.

 

Recovery was too slow for your taste, you didn’t like how weak you felt and how everybody treated you like you were made of glass. That’s truly something you loathed but you couldn’t do anything about, you couldn’t flip them off, no, not here. 

 

Making your way downstairs, you realized it might have been earlier than you anticipated. No one in sight yet, there was a fresh pot of coffee already made. Strange. You went for the kettle, you were more of a tea person than a coffee person. Unlike 90% of your teammates. Actually, you were an orange juice person but you just felt like sipping tea in this cozy, early and chilly morning atmosphere.

 

You grabbed your tea and a blanket thrown carelessly over the backrest of a random couch, stepping out on the porch. You had the choice between an old-looking rocking chair and a dusty bench, you chose the bench while wrapping tightly the blanket around your shoulders. 

 

The tea was hot and you cupped it between your hands, feeling warmth coursing your body. Is it how being settled and stable felt like? Having your own family? Kids? A house? It was an alien sensation to you but you somehow did not push away the safe feeling it radiated and welcomed it. For a time. You knew once you were out of here, your ectic and frantic life would come punching you in the face again. So you appreciated the time spent here warily, you stroked a finger lightly against your wound, not forgetting why you were here in the first place.

 

Movements to your right caught your attention and you saw Steve and Bucky approaching the house in a slow jog. They didn’t notice you yet so you observed their exchange with interest, how open and relaxed Bucky looked with Steve and Steve alone, he had a small smile on his face and Steve laughed at something he had said. This was not the terrorized Bucky from last night.

 

Bucky found your gaze first and you smiled when he didn’t flinch or tense. Small victory. You waved at them when Steve’s eyes followed Bucky’s and landed on you too. They waved back and joined you a minute later.

 

“Hey, boys.”

 

“Morning,” They said in unison.

 

Bucky sat beside you with a satisfied groan and Steve leaned against the railing. Both were sweaty and still breathing heavily.

 

“Morning run was good?” you asked.

 

“Yeah, not bad.” Steve said. “Bucky got slapped by a twig in his face.” He said with a mocking smile.

 

You turned to Bucky who grunted in response, you both knew Steve wasn’t going to let that go anytime soon.

 

“I’ve got plenty of bandages if you need.”

 

“Just a scratch.” Bucky retorted.

 

You impulsively brought up your hand and grazed lightly the shallow cut on Bucky’s cheekbone with a fingertip. You saw his cheek reden at the touch and he looked away.

 

“You will live, Sergeant Barnes.” You teased.

 

Steve crossed his arms and chuckled, looking back and forth between the two of you with great interest and amusement. 

 

He broke the silence first, “Want some coffee, Buck?”

 

Bucky shook his head and asked for some orange juice instead, he was running hot all by himself already. Steve came back with a mug of coffee for himself and a glass of orange juice for his friend. You all sipped your drinks for a moment, enjoying the quiet companionship.

 

“So,” you said, clearing your throat, “any updates on when we can go home?”

 

“Not enjoying Clint’s hospitality?” Steve asked.

 

“No, it’s-- I mean, yes, I am very grateful and his family is lovely. Just wondering.”

 

“I like it here,” Bucky said quietly, watching his surroundings.

 

“It’s different from the Tower and the city,” you said, “it’s peaceful but it’s  _ too  _ quiet.” you added.

 

“You don’t like quiet?” Bucky asked with genuine curiosity.

 

“I do! But it’s so far removed from any kind of civilisation, I would feel, I don’t know… Lonely. I wouldn’t say no to a nice, quiet life one day, though. Only when I wouldn’t be alone anymore. Or retired.” You added sheepishly.

 

They both hummed, understanding what you meant by that. 

 

“What are you doing up so early anyway?” Steve asked, drinking the rest of his coffee in one long swallow.

 

“Couldn’t sleep anymore. I thought it was later than that.”

 

Steve didn’t buy it. “You should be--”

 

“In bed,” you sighed. “I know. Don’t start mother henning me too, I already have him babysitting me.” You nodded in Bucky’s direction.

 

“Buck’s good at that, he used to do it to me all the time whenever the opportunity arose.”

 

“Guys, I’m right here.”

 

“Oh, he did say I was as stubborn as you,” you grinned, ignoring Bucky, “what did you do to make him stop?”

 

Steve leaned forward conspiraciously, “Be even more a pain in the ass.”

 

You both laughed while Bucky was glaring daggers at Steve.

 

“ _ Language _ , Steve.” Bucky said, imitating his friend’s voice.

 

“Alright, I’m outta here. I need a shower.” Steve raised his arms in surrender and bent down to take Bucky’s glass and your now empty cup of tea. “Will leave you two alone. See ya.”

 

And off he went, leaving Bucky alone with you on the bench. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” you asked after a pause.

 

Bucky tensed and he nodded, you spared a glance at his clenched fists and you saw goosebumps on his arm. Before you asked your question, you offered him a piece of your blanket.

 

He eyed it as if it was a threat and you rolled your eyes, pulling the fabric closer to him. Taking it after you practically shoved it in his hand, Bucky wrapped the blanket around his own shoulders, shifting closer to you to be more comfortable. You had learned that Bucky looked like a kicked puppy when he was being offered things, he didn’t want pity, though. So you didn’t show him any and that seemed to do the trick. 

 

“What did you see? When you got tricked. When you hallucinated back there, I mean.”

 

“I dreamed as the Asset, about missions I don’t remember, about the life I don’t remember. It was snippets of the things I’ve done and caused.” He sighed deeply, the haunted look you knew too well was back on his face. “Then he detached himself from me, facing me. He looked at me and taunted me, talked directly to me. It was unnerving. He said I was a waste and that I was regressing, that they were going to find me again and put me back on track. I still feel him sometimes, buried somewhere in there,” he tapped a finger against his temple to designate his brain, “but he won’t come back ever again, I won’t let him.”

 

“Is it why you had a nightmare last night?”

 

“I have nightmares all the time, this one was small compared to the others. The night terrors and sleep paralysis are the worst.”

 

You felt his hand reaching for yours and you let him take it, cradling it in his much bigger one exactly like he did last night. You understood the gesture was grounding him. Your head dropped on his right shoulder and he tilted his face to the side to grant you more access. You stayed in this position for quite some time, not daring to say anything that would threaten to break the moment you shared.

 

“I think I’m a more terrible bedmate than you, I often steal all the covers to myself.”

 

Your head shook faintly against his shoulder, you felt rather than heard him chuckle. That relieved you, you were good at easing situations.

 

“You’re not that bad of a bedmate, no.” He rubbed his chin against your forehead and the stubble there grazed at your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “You snore, though.”

 

“I do not!” You gasped, horrified. He laughed, now. Full belly laugh at seeing your offended face. “I drool from time to time but I don’t snore, never.” That only made him laugh harder and how you liked that sound coming from him.

 

‘Alright, too much information,” His laughter turned and ended into a contented sigh, a small smile curling on his lips. 

 

Time passed quickly after that, you had watched the sun rise above the clouds, intertwining your hands together at some point while he was tracing random patterns on the back of your hand with a thumb. It was more intimate than sharing a bed, you realized. And that made your stomach flip. 

 

You were ready to fall asleep, you had closed your eyes and let Bucky’s hair tickle your forehead when he moved. 

 

“Let’s go back inside, doll.”

 

Snapping your eyes open at the sound of his voice, you groaned and reluctantly discarded yourself from him. He was so warm and comfortable, you could have spent the morning like this. He led you inside by the hand but once you set foot inside the house, he squeezed one last time and dropped it, not risking anyone’s curious glance in your direction. 

 

The house was more alive and animated than when you had left it earlier. Laura was preparing breakfast with Clint by her side, Natasha and Tony were sitting at the table while sipping their own coffees and Steve and Bruce where nowhere to be found. Laura and Clint smiled and greeted the both of you whereas Nat and Tony exchanged a knowing smirk. 

 

However, Lila appeared in your field of vision and threw herself at your knees, enthusiastically saying good morning to you.

 

“Hi, little monkey! How ya doing?” you said, hugging her head against the good side of your belly.

 

“Good! I have something to show you,” She tugged on your hand and you heard Clint tsked at her.

 

“Don’t be so impatient, Lila. Where are your manners, young lady?”

 

“Yes, daddy.” She looked at you apologetically, “Sorry.”

 

“Aw, don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Bucky who had a soft expression on his face at seeing the both of you being so close.

 

“Catch you later, I’m going to head in the shower.” he said and left the room.

 

“Breakfast ready in five,” Laura said at you and Lila.

 

And with that, Lila grabbed your hand again to lead you in her playroom like yesterday. She picked a doll from her dollhouse and showed it to you, “Look, daddy fixed it! Cooper broke her head to annoy me but now she’s all pretty again!” she explained to you.

 

You took the doll and froze.

 

_ Doll _ . 

 

Bucky had said that word to you and you hadn’t even registered. That was so unlike him but he  _ had  _ called you this. 

 

Your stomach flipped again.

 

Exactly four and half minutes later, Lila and you exited the room and you seated yourself at the table right on time. Bruce came downstairs followed by Steve and Bucky behind him. His hair was damp and dripping slightly on the black hoodie. Lila had insisted to sit beside you and you hadn’t minded, this little girl was growing on you. Bucky took the place on your right and you couldn’t stop your heart from racing forcefully in your chest. His clean scent reached your nose and you were suddenly more interested in this than the smell of breakfast.

 

He felt your eyes on him and slipped something out of his pocket. “You left them upstairs.”

 

Taking the bottle of painkillers, you thanked him and started with breakfast, cursing this man and his gentleman behavior. And his intoxicating scent. And his lopsided smile. And--

 

Fuck, was that butterflies in your stomach now? 

 

You tried your best to ignore the feeling and push it far away from your mind but it was hard to everytime Bucky’s arm brushed yours in the restricted space or when he smiled that small and shy-like smile at you everytime he caught you looking. 

 

Shit. 

Shit, shit. 

Shit shit shit shitshitshit--

 

Mentally slapping yourself, you finished your breakfast quickly and managed to help clearing the table and even washing the dishes. Steve and Laura gave you a nasty look but you shrugged them off, you needing to occupy your mind, to find something to do, to just not  _ think _ . 

 

You stretched after having cleaned everything, feeling useful and human once again. Everyone had left to attend their own activities, leaving you alone in the too big space. You missed Lila already, she was so full of energy and life, you could have used that right now. Your injury, on the other hand, begged to differ. You had overextended yourself again and you needed to rest, but first, you went looking for a book. If your body needed rest, you at least decided to put your brain to good use. 

 

The library was huge and complete: children books, novels, cooking books, comic books… Many possibilities unfolded in front of you so you picked a book at random and brought it along with you, putting it on the coffee table as you sat down on the biggest of the two couches. You made yourself comfortable, finding a convenient position that did not pulled your stitches too tightly. 

 

You read, and read, and read. The house was suspiciously quiet for nine adults and two children residing inside. One moment, you were reading your hundred and fourth page and the next, you found yourself dozing off. You were already sound asleep when the book fell gently against your chest, not even registering it doing so.

 

“He only asked nicely, Bucky, you could make an effort.”

 

“I already told you. I don’t need a new arm, he doesn’t have to force his kindness onto me.”

 

“It’s not like that, he’s the only one here along Doctor Banner who can do something about it. You told me yourself it didn’t respond to your every move sometimes.”

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

 

“Leave them have a look! Just a look-- Bucky?”

 

Steve frowned when he turned his head and saw only thin air next to him. He looked back and Bucky was standing there, watching you with his head cocked to the side.

 

Steve hadn’t even seen you, he walked without even sparing a glance in your direction, perfectly hidden behind the backrest of the couch as he passed you by.

 

Bucky removed the open book from your chest with caution and slid his arms under your sleeping body delicately, pulling you in his arms.

 

“Bucky? What are you doing?!” Steve whispered to him but Bucky didn’t respond.

 

He placed one arm underneath your knees and the other around your shoulders, carrying you bridal style. He tucked your head safely in the crook of his neck, preventing it from lolling backward and pulled you up like you weighed nothing. 

 

“I’m putting her to bed.” Bucky simply said to his friend and climbed the stairs, two at a time. 

 

The only difficulty was to find a way to open the door with his two arms full. He used his hand holding you knees and pushed the door with his hip, entered the bedroom and dropped you softly on the mattress. You made a noise of protest and Bucky shushed you, whispering a “I’ve got you, doll.” in your ear, echoing your own words you told him last night to calm him.

 

“Bucky…” you sighed in your dream, not waking up.

 

Bucky froze and every muscles in his body tensed for a split second, thinking you had woken up. However, you continued to sleep soundly, a dreamless rest carrying on. He hesitated for a long minute, standing there like a coward but he finally brought his flesh hand to you face and brushed away the hair falling in your face. You hummed pleasantly in your sleep, snuggling comfortably in the bed. 

 

Not once you had been aware of what happened and with a soft click, Bucky shut the door behind himself after leaving the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Not happening.”

 

“Why Not!? C’mon, Bucky!”

 

“No, Y/N. Stop asking.”

 

“Please? Pleeeaase.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes!”

 

“You’re going to cut grass, not wood.”

 

“So? It’s fun and I’m bored to death.”

 

“Do you even know how to hold an axe properly?”

 

“No, that’s why I asked you to teach me, dumbass.”

 

“Y/N, seriously.”

 

“I’m always serious.”

 

“I’m not teaching you how to chop wood with an axe, not in your--”

 

“If you say  _ condition  _ again I will ask Steve, then. Or  _ Tony _ .” 

 

Steve would say no, Bucky and you both knew that, but Tony… 

 

“Fine.” Bucky gave in.

 

You grinned, all too pleased with yourself. You drew out your hand so Bucky would give you the axe but he didn’t budge, you narrowed your eyes when the look on himself could be only described as pure mischief.

  
“Spill. What do you want in exchange?”

 

“The rest of your pie.” He said immediately.

 

“You’re difficult to do business with, Barnes. Deal.” You shook each other’s hand to seal the deal and he placed the axe in your hands. 

 

It was heavier than you anticipated and you regretted instantly being so stubborn but you didn’t show it, keeping up appearances. You needed to find a way to secure your pride without him noticing. If Tony could do it, you could do it too you said to yourself even though the thought wasn’t as amusing if he wasn’t there to mock him with it.

 

You grabbed the very end of the wooden handle with both hands and raised it high above your head then let it fall forward to the piece of wood placed in front of you. You yelped as the axe changed the path of its fall and landed heavily in the grass next to the intended target instead. 

 

Bucky scratched his beard to hide his smirk behind his hand and you wanted so badly to erase that smug “I told you so” smile from his pretty goddamned face.

 

“Well, don’t stand there! You said you agreed to teach me!” 

 

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped toward you. He rolled his eyes a lot but you came to notice a small smile always curled on his lips soon after, that was his way of showing you how annoying you were but in a fond way, you decided.

 

“You’re holding it wrong,” he said and grabbed the axe, picking it up from the ground. He gave it back to you and placed your right arm to hold the middle of the handle as you kept your left one holding the end of it. “You have to balance the weight of the axe properly, your right arm will serve you to aim and your left arm will give it the force necessary to cut and split the wood.”

 

You listened and nodded, “Okay, got it.” and went back to your original stance, raising the axe again (this time properly held) and gave it another try.

 

The axe made a loud thud as it plunged shallowly in the wood, only scratching the surface of the chunk of wood. Your stitches did not appreciate the pull but you ignored it, it stung but Bucky’s nod of approval made everything else disappear in a cloud of smoke. 

 

“Not bad but you’re still not doing it correctly. You need to give more power to your swing otherwise you’re only carving the wood, not chopping it.”

 

“How do I do that?”

 

Bucky came to stand behind you, “May I?” he asked. 

 

You weren’t exactly sure what he was asking but you were already nodding your permission.

 

“It’s like when you’re about to start running,” you felt his right hand on your right leg, bending your knee, “it will help better if you changed your posture like this.”

 

“Balance and equilibrium.” 

 

He hummed in agreement close to your ear and you shuddered, his warm breath hitting your cool skin. He was standing close, you could easily decipher the hard planes of his chest against your back, his own body almost flushed against yours. He circled his arms around you and held your hands where they were holding the axe, he did not move them, simply grabbed them as he accompanied your next swing. With Bucky’s force and yours combined (mostly Bucky’s, you admitted to yourself only) the axe neatly split the wood in two equal pieces. 

 

“A piece of cake, see?” you said, proud of yourself.

 

Bucky chuckled low in your ear and you shifted in his (not quite) embrace, sinking deeper in his arms, feeling the warmth emanating from him. 

 

“Speaking of, I want what you owe me now.” He replied, starting to withdraw from you. Your body fitted together in such a perfect manner, you didn’t want the moment to end just yet, selfishly needing him to stay close to you a little longer.

 

“Wait!” He stilled and looked down at you with his brows furrowed, “One more?”

 

He appeared to mull it over in his head but he nodded, “Show me what I taught you.” He grabbed your hips to place you back in the previous posture then squeezed you shoulder affectionately, readying you. “Go ahead.”

 

Bucky did not help you this time but he stayed behind you within arm’s reach. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply to focus, gathering all the strength you needed. After a moment, Bucky placed a hand on your hip, he didn’t squeeze, he simply left it there to encourage you.

 

“C’mon, doll.”

 

You raised the axe above your head, creating momentum with your left leg and bent slightly the other to accommodate the landing of the axe. It successfully broke the chunk in half and you let out a loud “yes!” of victory, immediately turning to Bucky and throwing yourself into his arms in a fierce hug. He reciprocated, hugging you as he laughed, making sure you didn’t tackle the both you to the ground.

 

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

 

You pulled away an inch to be able to look at him, bright smile on your lips and a fond one on his. You involuntarily glanced at his lips and he caught the back and forth movement of your eyes. You wanted to withdraw, leaving him his space but he kept his arm wrapped around your waist firmly, not allowing you to go anywhere and you heart pounded loudly in your chest. Was your ribcage always so tight before? 

 

Painful, something was painful and it was not the feeling of your heart being too big inside of you, no. You pressed a hand against your wound and your hand came back bloody.

 

“Shit.” You said.

 

Bucky acted immediately and stepped away from you, dropping his arm to his side. He opened his mouth but you cut him off, “Don’t start scolding me, I know. I made a mistake but it’s fine, I’m fine.”

 

“I was just gonna say you need medical attention and we should get back inside.” He said.

 

“And I actually agree.” 

 

He shook his head and scoffed as you made your way back to the house, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked through the threshold. 

 

You let him take a look at the butchery down here and he grimaced when he saw the mess you had made. To your relief, the stitches were not broken but you had pulled them so tightly you had made yourself bleed. The wounds were sensitive, so when Bucky pressed a wet cloth against the entry and exit wound, making a sandwich out of you, you hissed loudly. You instinctively grabbed the nearest thing in pain, the thing being Bucky’s forearm, twisting the fabric of his sleeve in a fist until your knuckles turned white. 

 

Standing there until the pain faded and you stopped bleeding, your wounds needed redressing. Bucky fetched new gauzes, let you apply yourself the one on the front while he took care of the one on the back. He was being way more gentle than you were to yourself, his hands were swift and delicate as he applied the fresh gauze, you were rough and uncaring.

 

You sighed in relief when it was over with. You rolled down your shirt and realized you needed to change that too. 

 

“I need to change. More bloodied clothes to add to the pile. I feel bad for Laura.” you groaned and looked up to Bucky who remained silent. “Thank you for your help.” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

 

Bucky stopped breathing, caught off guards.

 

When you left him to get changed, all air knocked out of him, he finally sucked in a breath. 

 

Just a minute later, you came downstairs and found Bucky staring into space, not having moved an inch.

 

“At ease, soldier.” You said, standing at the opposite side of the kitchen island.

 

“What?” 

 

“You look frozen in time.” You cringed at the choice of words. “No pun intended.” 

 

He didn’t seem to notice and ignored your words, preferring to busy himself by retrieving the leftover pie. Did you make him uncomfortable with the display of affection? You bit your lower lip, mentally slapping yourself again. 

 

You were about the say something, at least apologize, when he offered you a spoon and put down the plate between the two of you. 

 

“Nuh-uh, that’s yours, we made a deal.” And you pushed away his hand.

 

He sighed and outstretched his hand further toward you, wiggling the spoon a little as to urging you to take it. Not accepting no as an answer.

 

You leaned atop the counter and took the spoon and cut a small morsel of the pie, shoving it in your mouth. He did the same thing with his own spoon and you shared both silence and pie during the first few bites before deciding to change the subject.

 

“Why do you hide your arm here?”

 

Bucky glanced at his imposing metal hand resting on the counter of the island and swallowed down the food. “I don’t want to frighten the kids. Or Laura. Don’t wanna make them uncomfortable. It’s better if it’s out of sight for everyone.” he muttered. 

 

“I don’t mind it.” You said to him, honesty in your voice crystal clear. “Looks pretty badass if you ask me.”

 

“It doesn’t to me.”

 

“Hey,” you circled the island and placed yourself beside him, next to his left arm. “I know it can be a burden to you, I’m sure it doesn’t remind you of good memories.”

 

“Did you know what they called me when we were in private, when they thought I couldn’t hear them?” he said dryly, still not looking at you.  _ They  _ being HYDRA.

 

“What did they call you?”

 

“The Fist of HYDRA,” he said, his voice shaking and wavering, clenching his metal hand tightly. 

 

“Between you and me,” you said, placing your hand atop his to ground him. “a bow and arrow is less cool than a metal arm. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, it’s just an arm, I’m sure they don’t have the slightest idea of what it did.”

 

The plates wired faintly when they shifted as you handled his arm in your grasp, putting the cool metallic palm of his hand to rest against your cheek. His breath stuttered as you leaned into the touch, smiling at him. If he had only associated bad memories with his arm, you decided it was time he had good ones. 

 

“Can you feel that?” you asked, not letting go of his hand, keeping it pressed against the side of your face.

 

“In its own way, yes.” When you frowned, he continued, “It’s connected to my nervous system. It’s hard to explain.”

 

You nuzzled the palm of his hand with the tip of your nose and kissed the inside of it very softly, barely a press of your lips against the still rather cool metal. Showing him you were not afraid of it, giving him your trust. 

 

“What about this? Do you feel it too?”

 

Bucky gasped your name, his body entirely still, not trusting himself to move. He had his eyes shut tightly and he shivered, the sensation overwhelming him from head to toe. He nodded frantically after a long minute of trying to regain a semblance of composure, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart picked up.

 

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes, and when he did, you smiled. He looked like a total wreck, you could hear him panting and his pupils were dilated, covering almost entirely the blue of his eyes. 

 

“What does it feel like?”

 

“Feels like you’re tickling me with a feather,” he answered absently. 

 

Slowly, he cupped the side of your face, metal fingers burying themselves in your hair. His thumb settled just below your eye, brushing the thin and sensitive skin there with the tip of his thumb. His eyes traveled from your eyes, your nose, and landed on your lips. He stared at them a beat too long, longing clear in his eyes, and when you half expected him to kiss you, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead instead. 

 

You didn’t know what scared you the most, how willing you had been to let him kiss you or how disappointed you felt when he didn’t.

 

The gesture ended up in a hug, the second one of the day and you couldn’t really complain.

 

“Thank you.” He murmured against your hair and you thought that maybe, you had overestimated the whole situation. 

 

“Oh, I’ve got something else for you. Wait here!” you pulled out of the hug excitedly, remembering the drawings of each members of the team you had made the other day in the company of Lila. You had been completely out of practise and of ideas so you had decided to choose the persons that inspired you the most and surrounded you every day of your life. “And finish the damn pie already!”

 

You hurried to Lila’s playroom and snatched the pile of drawings carefully placed on the desk and came back just as quickly. Your body screamed at you, pleading to put a stop to the sudden and painful movements you inflicted to your injured abdomen.

 

Shuffling through the drawings, you looked for the one you wanted and took it out when you finally found it. You hesitated for a second, looking at the childish strokes of your drawing but you handed it over to Bucky.

 

The latter grabbed it and his mouth went slack. A smiled curled on his lips and spread into a grin. 

 

“I’m  _ so _ going to show this to Steve.”

 

“Be careful, I can take it back.” you warned. "And he's going to get one too." You waved the Captain America drawing. 

 

“No way, don’t even think about it. I’m keeping this.”

 

“So… That means you like it?”

 

“Yes. Steve couldn’t have done better.”

 

“Wow, that pleases my ego but don’t push it.”

 

“But can I? Keep it, I mean.”

 

“Sure,” you shrugged, secretly pleased with yourself.

 

“Thanks.” He told you, folding the paper carefully and tucking it in the pocket of his jeans.

 

“You can say the truth now, I won’t get mad,” you chuckled.

 

“I never lied to you. I won’t start now.” 

 

“It’s just a stupid drawing, Bucky.”

 

“It means a lot to me, alright? I see tons of drawings of Captain America and Iron Man, of you, of the team, plastered everywhere I go, I see them all the time but never…” He took a deep breath and looked anywhere but your eyes. “Never of me.”

 

You were lying if you said it didn’t shatter your heart in many tiny little pieces. You swallowed thickly, not knowing what to say or do.

 

“You have one, now. It’s the quality that counts, though. Not the quantity.” You added quickly.

 

“So when I say I like it, I mean it. I truly do.”

 

You nodded, feeling entirely angry at yourself now.

 

Natasha, Tony and Bruce chose this moment to enter the kitchen and you took a step back from Bucky, startled from their appearance.

 

“There was still some pie left and no one warned me?” Tony said, eyeing a little too closely the piece left in Bucky’s plate.

 

“Not for you, tin man.” You shot back.

 

“Were you hand feeding him? Did we interrupt something?”

 

You rolled your eyes and brought the plate closer to you and Bucky defensively. Natasha watched you like a shark, taking in every movements and expressions you or Bucky could possibly betray to use against you, or tease you about. 

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Tony but stayed quiet, you talked on behalf of the both of you. “Gross, Tony. What do you want?”

 

“Communal kitchen, Y/N.” He reminded you. “Can’t a guy enjoy a snack?”

 

Bucky tensed when Tony stepped in the same space him and you shared, you couldn’t blame him. He didn’t fear Tony but with the history they had behind them, you could only imagine how everytime Bucky laid eyes on Tony, he was reminded of a past he wished to both forget (killing his parents) and remember (befriending Howard during the war). Tony had decided to put this behind them, he did not forgive or forget but simply moved on. They were not exactly friendly, they were…  _ courteous  _ to the other, primarily for Steve’s sake and the wellbeing of the team. You didn’t know if they trusted the other, Tony probably didn’t but they worked together without arguing and there was also the fact that Bucky refused to let Tony peek inside his arm.

 

“What’s this?” Bruce asked, pointing to your drawings.

 

“Looks like Lila’s.” Nat said.

 

“They’re Y/N’s.” Bucky declared.

 

“It’s… Yeah, they’re mine.” you chuckled. “Spent the afternoon with Lila the other day, she made killer puppy eyes at me to draw with her, couldn’t say no.”

 

True to himself, Tony strolled around with a spoon hanging from his lips and a jar of peanut butter in his hand, joining the already very intrigued Bruce and Nat.

 

“ _ You _ made this?” Tony asked, branding the red and gold drawing. 

 

“I poured all my heart into these, don’t hurt my feelings!”

 

“It’s actually cute coming from you.” Tony retorted.

 

“Can I take mine?” Natasha said, a small but genuine smile on her lips.

 

“That’s very creative, the execution is sloppy but the originality is there.” Bruce added.

 

You tried your best not to blush but they kept throwing compliments at you, “Yeah, yeah, take them and leave me alone.” You shook your head fondly. 

 

They made you sign the drawings for authenticity and mostly to tease you but you played along, absolutely proud of your masterpieces. You said that without an ounce of exaggeration, of course.

 

So there was that. You all were a dysfunctional family and that was fine to you.

 

Later that day, after dinner, you had stayed longer than usual seated at the table. Some of you enjoyed a drink (lemonade or iced tea, no alcohol was available in the house) while Tony and Clint played darts. Fury had joined you at some point during the afternoon and it broke the semblance of peace you had found there. You had discussed Ultron and where to find him, how to trap him. It seemed like it was time to go home, life resumed its coursed and you strangely stayed quiet the whole evening. 

 

After a while, the conversation switched to something more light-hearted and without understanding why, everyone was talking about your drawings. Steve had been clueless the first few minutes but you had brought him his own, the last one of the pile (along with Thor's, you made a mental note to give it to him next time you see him) as Clint had taken his own when he had caught you in his kids’ playroom. Fury had teased you for not having made one for him and you had said “Sorry, boss, I’m not taking any more commissions now.”

 

Steve had been oddly emotional about it and gave you a crushing hug, he had apologized a dozen times when you had winced in his arms, your stitches not happy about the hug. He had insisted on giving you something in return and Lila had happily spared few of her crayons along a couple of sheet of papers for him. It had taken him no time at all to make a beautiful sketch of you that took your breath away. You had immediately felt outdrawn and by far.

 

“If it can make you feel better, he dropped out of art school.” Bucky whispered to you.

 

“He went to art school?!”

 

“I don’t remember how he even got to attend school when his parents died back then but he sure did.” He eyed the sketch of you on the table. “I might have encouraged him to pursue this rather than jumping in the war bandwagon.”

 

“I wish I had a tenth of his talent.” You said, impressed by this new information.

 

Bucky squeezed your knee under the table and you smiled in return.

 

For the first time since you got here, Bucky went to bed the same time as you. Everybody retired to their own quarters, getting some sleep before getting ready to face Ultron again tomorrow. 

 

You brushed your teeth absently in the bathroom after having changed in the pyjama Laura had given you a couple of days earlier. You made sure you took your painkillers and checked one last time your bandages. The bruises had faded to a faint yellowish color around your wounds and you nodded, satisfied enough. You got out of the bathroom and your eyes landed on Bucky’s form already tucked into bed, his head propped up against a pair of pillows. He was looking at your drawing and didn’t seem to have noticed you had emerged from the bathroom. 

 

“What’s my drawing saying to you?”

 

He startled and clenched his fist, creasing the paper slightly. He cursed under his breath and instantly tried to put it back into a proper shape. You took it from his hand and put it flat against the mattress, easing it with a hand in a up and down motion.

 

“There,” you said and gave it back to him.

 

“You didn’t sign mine.” He blurted out, a pout forming on his lips.

 

You snorted. You found him adorable. There was a small desk in the corner of the room and you rummaged through one of the drawer until you found a pen. Bucky handed you the drawing and you quickly scribbled something down on the bottom left of the drawing.

 

Whereas everybody got  _ Captain America by Y/N _ or  _ The Black Widow by Y/N,  _ you actually took the time to write something for Bucky, something more personalized… more personal.

 

Sitting down near Bucky on the bed, he read the words:

 

_ A Good Man _

_ The best one I’ve ever met _

_ Yours, Y/N _

 

“I’m not a good man, Y/N.” He said after a long, long moment spent staring blankly at the words.

 

“Of course you are, Bucky.”

 

“But the things I’ve done--”

 

“I’m not having this conversation.” You said and laid down on the bed, using Bucky’s chest a pillow. “Nothing you’d say could change my mind so don’t waste your time.”

 

He didn’t move nor even dared to breath, taken aback by how you have so easily put your head at the very center of his chest, feeling his heartbeat betray the false sense of calm he let out on the outside. 

 

You turned your head and propped your chin on his chest, looking at him. “I know what you’ve done and I’m not going to give you the ‘you didn’t know what you were doing, it wasn’t you’ speech. I’m sure you heard it enough for a lifetime and I’m not in the mood to pity you. It’s in the past and you’re not the same person who I’m using as my personal pillow right now. He would have probably snapped my neck already.”

 

Bucky’s mind raced, you could clearly see he wanted to say many things to you at once, his brain simply short-circuiting itself. His flesh hand reproduced what his metal one did earlier and he buried it in your hair, gently untangling knots with his fingers. You hummed and pressed your cheek back to his chest, making yourself comfortable atop him. He did not relent his ministrations and continued to alternate between petting and caressing your hair with great care. 

 

You didn’t fall asleep, in fact, you were wide awake. Bucky had found sleep some time ago, his hand still above your head. In other circumstances, you would have fallen asleep the minute Bucky started caressing your hair but progressively, his movements and breathing slowed until it had completely stopped. You were glad he could find some sleep, you didn’t know how much time had passed but he had not even tried to move a toe in his sleep, wasn’t making any sound, he was as silent as a tomb. 

 

After successfully getting up (you wondered how you had not woken him, you had to extricate yourself from him and the bed without making a single noise), you padded downstairs quietly in the dead of the night. It was strange having insomnia in someone else’s home, you had to try to not collide with the furnitures. You unlocked the front door and stepped outside, finding the same spot you had shared with Bucky and Steve on the porch. You didn’t sit down, choosing to lean against the railing and watch the shadows in the garden dancing before your eyes.

 

The cold hit your skin but you welcomed it, the fresh air filled your lungs and you took several deep breaths to screw your head back on right. Something else had bloomed in your heart and mind for the past couple of days but you tried to push the idea of it far away, you couldn't give yourself hope… could you? 

 

You were going to miss this place.

 

The door on your left opened and closed and you didn’t need to look up to know who had joined you. Bucky placed something warm around your shoulders and you rubbed your nose in the comforting, unique scent on his hoodie. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked just above a whisper.

 

“Same as you.” You replied.

 

You were exhausted, you didn’t know if the sleep you had for the past three days was a result of getting shot or finding safety and peace in this environment. It didn’t matter anymore.

 

“Can I ask you something?” A sense of déjà-vu hit the both of you.

 

“Shoot.” 

 

“Why do you call me ‘doll’?”

 

Among all the things you could have asked him, this was not something he had expected.

 

Bucky mirrored your posture and leaned against the railing as well, finding how to answer you.

 

“Old habit, I guess.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, but, why  _ me _ ?” You insisted. 

 

He let out a long sigh, you could see clouds of his warm breath mingling with the cold mist of the night. 

 

You glanced at him, waiting for an answer. He looked lost in thoughts and when you thought he wouldn’t give you an answer, he caught your gaze and held it. His eyes drifted to your lips and he took a step forward. You didn’t budge and stayed firmly planted on your feet, straightening as he approached you, giving you plenty of time to withdraw. 

 

You didn’t.

 

And when you were toe to toe, he cupped your face with both his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You shivered at the feel of his cold hands and cold lips but he made you melt anyway. The kiss was chaste, his stubble grazed your face in a delicious burn when he moved his lips against yours. You followed his movement, tilting your face to get a better angle. 

 

When you broke apart, it was only to chase each other’s lips again the second after, you slid your hand on his chest and found his heart beat matching yours. All your senses were full of Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. It was intoxicating and overwhelming but you kept kissing him all the same. So did he. And for a while you didn’t stop discovering the other, nothing else seemed to matter or be of importance anymore. 

 

“We could have all this.” He said against your lips. “We could have all of this and it would be ours alone.” 

 

Bucky dropped his forehead against yours and you licked your lips, mourning the loss of his lips slotted with yours already. 

 

“We can’t, Bucky.”

 

“We can make anything happen, doll.” He poked his nose to yours. “As long as you’re with me.”

 

You closed your eyes and let yourself imagine what would it be like to have all this, a house, a home, with Bucky. The thought was appealing, the hope bubbling up again. 

 

Doing mundane chores just the two of you while a fire was crackling, cuddling in front of the dying fire and then going to bed with him. Falling asleep every night in his arms then waking up close, no more insomnia, no more night terrors. Cooking together. Building a shelf together. Reading on the same couch, your legs in his lap. Bucky’s face would be free of dark circles and haunted looks. You would hear the sound of his laughter echoing through the house. He would make you smile and then bend down to kiss it. You would even have a dog, maybe, someone Bucky could go with during his morning runs.

 

“I want this with you.” Bucky said.

 

Tired, you were tired. Physically and mentally. You thought of the imminent departure just a few hours from now. Could you do it again? Another mission, another mayhem, another day where your life was at stake. You didn't know how long you could keep going. 

 

"The nice and quiet life you wanted… I would give it all to you."

 

This is something you had been daydreaming about for a while now, you had refused to let it gain you, made you hope. But Bucky happened, he made his way into your life, carved himself a place so easily you wondered if it wasn't written somewhere.

 

"What do you say, doll?" 

 

You gave him one last, quick kiss on his lips and looked at him.

 

“Yes.” you answered, giving in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Kudos and/or comments appreciated! :)


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